My curls, full and voluminous, I treasure
Each one tells a story.
People flock to touch,
Grasping them like gold,
They ask: “How did you get them such?”
“Are they natural?” Some scold,
In a world full of fakes, that hits like a punch.
“Yes!” I reply with pride,
My curls are my mane, grabbing them, I scrunch,
Jealousy can slide!
My curls are my shield;
They mask my doubt, comparisons
Much profit they yield!
You can tell a lot from my curls:
When I am tired and lazy,
When I treat them like 'my girls,'
When I'm sassy and crazy.
When they’re not washed for weeks,
My mental health radar
Send me obvious tweaks -
“Don’t disconnect, come back, savour,
Reconnect with yourself and the world,”
My curls are my most significant feature;
My crown of glory.

Sparkle, little diamond,
Wipe the dust off and
Feel your infinite potential within.
Dormancy may have been your norm,
But no more!
Shine.

Screaming on the inside again,
This horrible feeling hangs over me like shame,
Will it ever be different, or just the same?
Even when the fires are raging all around,
A new fire is taking shape on the inside.

No more, no more, no more!
Give this tune a new name, it’s time to soar,
Time to stop being silent; no, it’s time to roar!
I’m not a little girl anymore, I’m grown,
It’s time to harvest the seeds sown.

Dream big, play hard it’s time, let’s go!
Put the books on the shelf, there’s so much to know,
In life, through experience, grow in confidence as you flow,
There’ll always be more,
So just step out and taste what’s install!

There was a little girl,
With a little curl,
But when she looked around
Others could be found
Tall ones, short ones,
Sportier and funnier ones.
They looked like they’re having so much fun,
She thought, miserable, she sat glumly.
With head in hands,
She couldn’t see the fanfare and bands:
Celebrating life in all it’s abundance,
Lost, she was, deep in a trance.
But, then, deeper within,
Life spoke, welcoming her in.
You are loved, there’s no-one like you!
Why look to others, when you know it to be true?!
So off she embarked,
On a new adventure: divinely marked
Out just for her, and you...
Hearts held open can be renewed.

Opportunity after opportunity,
some could say leads to discontinuity
Or spontaneity?
Can it lead to deity?
Frailty, surely, will come,
But we can spark that with
originality?!
Frivolity can be a gateway,
To birthing new possibilities.
Imagine the ingenuity!

Even though I hold a bouquet of regret,
I shall not fret
Because You will ensure
I never fall.

I've just noticed, 
as I looked up from writing poetry,
A magpie purchased on the high back 
of one of my outdoor setees, 
Staring smack at me 
as I sculpt words.
Fixed, it holds itself still, measured.
Scheming its next swoop;
Taking in my features, 
I was a moving target.

It isn’t easy to walk, gravity weighs.
The biosuits lock the mind
in a narrow space.

An interpretive blow is crucial:
Does being on the other side of the mirror
truly want it, or only think it does?

A thumb drives into the right temple.
The heart pumps hectoliters of warm liquid.
Colours, sounds, tensions in the eternal swirl.

Delay in processing—eighty milliseconds
it isn’t a flaw.
It takes that long for all the cogs to turn.

Everything I do now is already in the past.
Decisions made long ago spit me out
into this reality with some name.

I am the last, but not least,
in the collective dream and blink of time.

Minds sway like golden grain, ready to be cut.
I can stand up or lie on the ground.

I walk—
toward the next stumble,
the next wound, and maybe healing.

Insights glow like yellow lanterns,
giving me some light.

No justification, no understanding.
My self-awareness is not a cozy couch.

One day,
I will stop existing, and I accept that.
I’m just afraid to leave those who still love me.